


In which Canada goes on a journey of discovery

by aphVirginia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: More tags to be added, artwork in the work, idk how to tag that hhhnnngggg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:10:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphVirginia/pseuds/aphVirginia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Undertale pacifist route, wherein Canada (aka Mattie) takes the place of Frisk. The rating will change as the story progresses. Human names are used.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flowey

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! This is my first fanfic posted to AO3, so I would really appreciate it if I could get some feedback on the chapter. Especially if I missed any grammar or spelling errors.
> 
> Thank you, and enjoy!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have read the fanfic thus far!!! I really appreciate it, and I hope you enjoy it.

The first thing Mattie, otherwise known as Canada, was aware of as he came to was the brush of something soft on his cheek, like the silk woven by Yao’s people. He wanted to brush the touch away, but found that his limbs felt heavy and laced with unconsciousness. He drifted back off into the comforting embrace of sleep, unwilling to wake up just yet…

He wakes up some time later, head feeling fuzzy and vision blurry. He pulls himself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning softly. He set his hands to the ground, again feeling the silken texture of… flower petals? He took a moment to examine where he was—a difficult task, as his glasses were nowhere to be seen—finding that he was somewhere with lots of darkness and… yellow, from the flowers he now identified as buttercups. As his mind raced to catch up with his situation, he remembered how he’d gotten down there in the first place…

* * *

_“Just a bit farther…” He mumbled to himself, rope slung over his shoulder. “Just a bit farther, and then there’ll be a good tree for this.” It was getting dark, becoming harder and harder to see… at least it wasn’t winter. He’d been walking for several hours, and he planned to walk just a bit further. He had to, needed to—if he could find a good spot, then it would take Alfred and Francis years to find him. Not that they’d notice he was missing, anyways… He felt his cellphone buzz a familiar jingle; he ignored it. It was probably Alfred trying to get him to pick up his bear for the fiftieth time that day, or Prussia asking if he was free for drinks just to leave him at the bar alone. He knew how his life worked… He was tired of it. A tree loomed up over him, its shadow blocking what little light there was—its shadow covered the ground of the clearing, casting it in darkness akin to the swirls within a jar of black paint. Its needles scattered about in every which way, barely illuminating branches that his rope could reach with general ease. He took a step towards the tree, his foot stepping on air—and he was falling._

* * *

His mind snapped into full alertness, head snapping up to stare at the tiny pinprick of light visible from the bottom of the cavern. Just how far had he fallen? More importantly… How was he not in pain? He ran his hands over his chest, his arms, his sides, his legs, checking for any sort of internal bleeding or broken bones. All that he found were not-fully-healed marks from yesterday and they day before, along with the creases on his skin from his clothes being bunched up underneath him. Where was his rope? Looking around again proved futile; wherever his rope had fallen, he doubted he would find it anytime soon. Maybe he should get up and try to find it… He felt himself filling with an emotion he hadn’t really felt in quite some time. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he’d figure it out soon enough. Maybe.

Mattie scrambled to his feet with a groan, muscles feeling sore after laying on the ground for so long. He glanced apologetically at the squished yellow buttercups, assuming he now had grass stains on his favorite hoodie. He held his hands out, walking into the darkness and searching for the walls, a rock, some rope… Anything. Soon enough his hand brushed the rock wall, and he turned to face the flowers.

From his new vantage point, he could see the edges of the side of the cavern he was in. The floor was surprisingly flat, and the “cave” was actually a room of sorts. He knew a formation like this wasn’t natural… A surge of hope flowed through his veins. Maybe there were other people down here, someone who could help him get back to the surface… And possibly lend him a rope. He could also see a hallway leading off from the room… A quick scan revealed the not-so-surprising discovery that this was the only exit. With a heavy sigh, he set off down the hallway; at least there was enough light to see where things were around him.

There was an open doorway at the end of the hallway, causing Mattie to come to a halt. Something felt… off about the room beyond. He knew, through the wars he had lived through, that his gut instinct was almost never wrong. Still, it was the only way to go if he wanted to get out… He entered the room, keeping an eye out for booby traps.

The room he’d entered was rather large, almost a perfect square, with a single flower in the center, the same type of flower as the buttercups that had been in the room he’d entered from. He didn’t know why, but this flower made him incredibly uneasy. Perhaps it was the way the room was centered on it, or the fact that there was no other light except for what landed on the buttercups…

“Howdy!!” He jumped, startled, eyes frantically searching for the source of the cheerful voice.

“Where are you?!?”

“Down here, silly!!!” His eyes flicker to the flower, then to the floor beyond it. He couldn’t believe... flowers don’t talk, so why should this one-

“I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower!” A startled noise squeaks out of his throat, gaze locking on the plant. How could it speak? Was he dead? Flowey chuckles, and a slight flush tinged his cheeks—he hadn’t realized he’d voiced the questions. “Well, I can’t answer that first one, but I can assure you that you aren’t dead!!!” Mattie nods meekly, mind racing to process the information. The last time he’d seen something even remotely like this, he’d been drinking with Prussia and had decided to smoke a joint. Needless to say, he hadn’t done either again… the conversation he’d had with Alfred afterward made sure of it.

“You must be new to the Underground, aren’tcha? Golly, you must be so confused.” The flower smiled warmly at him, happy mood doing nothing to calm the other’s ruffled feathers.

“…Th… The Underground?” He’d heard of it before—Arthur, and before him Francis, had loved telling him the legends of the monsters that lived there. They way they’d told it was almost like they were holding something back… Now he knew what that something was.

“Yep!!! Someone ought to teach you how things work around here. I guess little old me will have to do.” Something seemed… off about the flower… Besides the fact that he was, in fact, a talking flower. He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but he could have sworn that something sinister crossed over Flowey’s expression.

“Ready?” He nodded, the other’s expression again flickering with something… unkind. “Here we go!”

The world faded to black around him, a tugging sensation freeing… A glowing, red heart from his chest, closely followed by dozens upon dozens of much smaller, multicolored hearts; he could immediately sense that this was something he needed to keep safe, keep hidden. If Flowey’s expression was anything to go by, he needed to keep it as far away from the flower as physically possible.

The aforementioned flower stared at Mattie’s soul like it was candy, a drip of drool leaking from the hole he considered its mouth. The plant didn’t seem to notice that Mattie had returned his attention to it; the plant was much more transfixed with the powerful aura the soul omitted. He saw thoughts racing around in the other’s mind, flying about like bumper cars. He had half a mind to call out Flowey’s name, but the plant seemed to snap itself out of whatever had kept it transfixed on the stained-glass complexity of the floating heart within its bubble.

“W-well, um, y’see the heart in the other hearts? That is your soul, the very culmination of your being!!!” His eyes widen in surprise, gaze flicking from the flower to the red heart and back to the flower.

“My soul?” Mattie asked, voice its usual whisper of nearly silence.

“Your soul starts off weak, but can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV.” Apparently, the flower hadn’t heard him. That… stung more than it should have. After all, Mattie was used to being ignored. “LV stands for LOVE!!! You want some LOVE, don’t you?” Mattie snorts at the question, amused by how lewd it sounded—he knew what the other had meant, but that didn’t stop him from getting just a touch of laughter from it. “Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you!!!” With that, Mattie got the distinct impression that Flowey was trying sound dirty. The wink directed at him certainly didn’t help matters.

“Down here, LOVE is shared through… Little white… ‘Friendliness Pellets.’” Mattie decided the plant was a pervert; however, before he could voice his opinion, small white pellets floated from the flower to spin lazily in the air near the flower. He stared, transfixed, almost missing Flowey’s question. With a curt nod, the pellets made their way towards his heart. “Go on, collect as many as you can!!!” Not seeing a reason not to, Mattie guided his heart towards the nearest pellet, somehow guiding the shield of smaller hearts around the pellet to let it touch the red heart.

A scream of agony tore itself from his throat when the pellet touched his soul, causing him to collapse to his knees, hands clutching his chest. He felt like he was on fire, every inch of him screaming with pain, vision blurring with barely withheld tears. A glance up told him what he’d feared; Flowey’s face, once kind and caring, had reverted to a monstrous form. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the flower was a mask or a puppet with a face so drastic.

“You idiot.” Flowey’s voice grated like nails down a chalkboard, icy cold and full of hate. He… He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this. He didn’t want to die where no one would find him!!! “In this world, it’s kill or BE killed. Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this!?” Miraculously, Mattie managed to stay silent, only offering a wordless glare. He knew the rules; the World Wars had taught him that. His silence seemed to unnerve the flower, but only slightly. A circle of the white pellets surrounded him, his soul, spinning rapidly so that even if he could have squeezed out between a gap of the pellets they would move too fast for him to do so. “Die.” The pellets crept towards his soul, and it took all of his effort not to move the red heart. Any last few precious seconds of life would make all the difference, he hoped. Right as one of the pellets brushed against his shield of mini hearts, his pain disappeared. His and Flowey’s confusion at the act dissipated when a fireball appeared and slammed into him, knocking him and his pellets away from the red heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Let me know if you have any suggestions, concerns, or questions about the plotline of the fic!!! I'm okay with sharing some detail, but not all of it uwu.
> 
> Edit: Fixed grammar
> 
> Edit: Added drawing by yello-paper.tumblr.com


	2. Toriel Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!!!!  
> This chapter's longer than I intended it to be, so I've decided to have a Toriel part one and a Toriel part two. However, the next chapter will involve Napstablook!!! Mattie here probably won't leave the Ruins until the end of chapter four, and then... it's time for the Skelebros uwu

Mattie watched, confusion heightening, at the appearance of a rather tall woman. His eyes focused on her face, admiring the way the light shone off her dazzling white fur and soft-looking robe. She towered over his prone form, looking at him with a concern he wasn’t used to receiving. Didn’t she know that there were better, more important things to worry about than him?

“What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth…” If he’d had the energy within him to show any flickering trace of emotion at her words, his face would’ve been painted the perfect picture of surprise. He hadn’t expected the flower to speak, let alone the woman--whom he now assumed to be at least part goat. There was a way she spoke that had soft undertones of the noises the animal would make, but he couldn’t differentiate between mountain goats and sheep based upon what he’d heard. He assumed the former. She, mistaking Mattie’s look of slight confusion and surprise with fear, told him to not be afraid; again referring to him as a child. He had half a mind to tell her that he was physically 18, but she continued speaking before he could utter a single word.

“I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins.” His eyes widen. Ruins? How was he supposed to get home from underground, most likely enclosed, ruins? Would she help him get home? Was he even alive?

“My name’s Matthew, but everyone just calls me Mattie…” He mumbles, out of an instinct to be polite. Both Francis and Arthur had ingrained his polite nature, though Francis had done a better job than Arthur ever did.

“Matthieu… Such a lovely name.” His face heated up, causing Toriel to smile warmly at him. He momentarily wondered if she would attack him too, but his unease has dissipated to almost nothing… Besides, if she’d wanted him dead, she would’ve just let Flowey have him. She reminded him of Ukraine; both of them were sweethearts, never wanting to harm a fly. “I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down. You are the first human to come here in a long time.” Mattie’s face contorted into one of confusion—if all the humans, or ‘humans’, had fallen down here, how had she gotten here?

“Come! I will guide you through the catacombs.” Her smile widens when she says it, inky blackness dissipating around him and revealing the colors of the room. Toriel stood where the flower had once been, natural darkness of the room behind her making the velvety softness of her fur and the purple hues of her robe stand out against the green of the vibrantly grassy patch. The white fabric of the symbols on her robe shone in the sunlight, as if their light alone could answer his many questions. Her horns, which he had just noticed, curled up on her head. They were small, smaller than any ram’s horns, but they were clearly not for slamming into walls and other goat folk. If there were any other goat folk… He guessed he would find out. “This way.” She says, turning and heading towards the opposite end of the room. Mattie scrambled to his feet, following her as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to be left behind, and he certainly didn’t want to meet Flowey again.

The room beyond was drenched in purple. Walls, floor, ceiling… all of it. Her robe’s colors made sense, now—it made her much harder to see without his glasses… With a small noise, he realizes that he didn’t have his glasses. His hands flew to around his neck, relief washing over him upon finding them securely attached to the string he’d tied them to before his journey. When he’d done it, he thought he’d look silly; now he was overjoyed he’d done so. Slipping his (miraculously uncracked) glasses on, he could clearly see the confusion plastered on her face.

“What is it?” She asks, motherly concern warming his heart. Noone had ever been so worried for him before… Not in a long time.

“I, uh, thought I’d lost my glasses.” He murmured, voice back to its usual near whisper. He thought she hadn’t heard him, since no one he knew ever really bothered to listen to him. Her warm smile, however, proved otherwise.

“Well, I am glad that you have not.” She beams at him, a smile full of a love he didn’t come close to deserving, and headed off towards a staircase. He couldn’t tell if the staircase was actually white or if it was a light purple; with his surroundings, he’d bet his entire country on the latter. There was a large pile of red leaves at the base of the stairs, and Mattie couldn’t help but walk through them. The familiar crunch of autumn leaves beneath his feet made his heart soar, filling him to the brim with the emotion he couldn’t quite place his finger on—and suddenly it was gone. He wasn’t sure what he’d just done, but now he felt prepared to take on the challenges that lay ahead. After all, he was Canada; if he could handle the idiocy of his sibling on a day-to-day basis, he could handle anything. He darted up the stairs after her, the leftover bits of leaves dropping from his pants like crumbs, leaving a trail of them as she led him into the next room.

“U-uhm, Ms. Toriel?” He stuttered out, voice sounding as small and meek as it usually was.

“Yes, Mattie?” She turned to look at him, expression soft and assuring.

“How… How do I get home from here?” Her face flickered to… something dark, before returning to its normal state of motherly affection. He thought he’d blinked, that he’d made it up, before the words left her mouth.

“Home? This is your new home, innocent one.” 

“But-“

“There isn’t a way out of the ruins. I’m sorry.” She did seem genuinely apologetic, but Mattie’s mind rushed to comprehend this information. He hadn’t wanted to fall down the hole, hadn’t wanted to live in the first place—was his life so out of his control that he now got no say in where he got to spend it? He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be home, he didn’t want to be alive… Couldn’t she see that?

“Matthieu? Matthieu, are you alright?” He snapped out of his thoughts, blinking confusedly. His cheeks felt damp and chilled, his vision blurrier than normal—had he been… crying? He raised a hand to his cheek, wiping off the salty embodiment of his feelings and stared at it as though it were inconsequential. Toriel stepped close to him, wiping the wetness from his cheeks with a gentleness he wasn’t used to receiving, looking at him with a kindness that oozed of parental concern. “It’s going to be alright, Matthieu; I promise.” He wasn’t worth the attention, he wasn’t worth the love and affection she was showing, he wasn’t worth her time and energy… She wrapped her arms around him, gently pulling him close into a mother’s warm embrace. She didn’t have to kneel to hug him; he was about as tall as she was, though her words of comfort made him feel so small.

“Je suis désolé.” He gasped out, clinging tightly to her and pressing his face into the comforting confines of her shoulder. He didn’t hear her slight noise of confusion—Toriel couldn’t speak French, much as she’d like to—but her comfort was all he needed to try and pull himself together. 

“Shhh, Matthieu; you’re going to be okay.” She murmured softly, gently winding her filed-down claws through his hair, doing her best to comfort him. “I won’t let anything hurt you.” Silent, body-racking sobs shook through him, taking all his effort to keep himself silent; he hated showing any sort of “weakness,” and any sort of sound he made was just another reminder for how weak he and his country were. At least, that’s how it was to him. Alfred, Arthur, and pretty much every other country had proven it at one point or another. She started murmuring comforting sweet nothings, even going as far as to hum a soft lullaby; none of it was helping. Mattie just wanted to be left alone to cry, to mope, to suffer, but Toriel seemed undeterred by any and all of his half-formed and weak protests to her comfort. Perhaps her mother’s instinct was too strong, or she was just that sweet of a person—either way, she still held him when he’d run out of tears to cry.

“Allow me to educate you in the operations of the ruins.” Toriel murmurs softly, thumbing away the remains of his tears before hesitantly stepping away, clearly keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn’t need another hug or burst of caring attention. “The ruins are full of puzzles. You must solve them to move from room to room.” He nodded his understanding, grateful that there would be some sort of distraction to his thoughts. She smiled warmly at him, then turned and walked over to a set of pressure plates he only noticed just then. Walking quickly, she stepped on a select pattern of buttons, then flipping a switch on the far wall; a seemingly perfectly sealed door next to the switch opened with a soft click. “Come—there are many puzzles that need to be solved.” She pads back over to him, taking his hand with a gentle paw, leading him into the room beyond.

“To make progress here, you will need to flip several switches.” Using her free paw, she gestures towards the room beyond. Mattie’s face lit up—while he tended to avoid them, he was rather fond of puzzles like these. He removed his glasses to look into the room beyond, Toriel becoming blurry whereas the room beyond her was put into focus. He could see the individual bricks of the stone wall in the back of the room, the spikes blocking entry into the room beyond, and yellow markings next to two of the three switches. He deflated just a bit; He’d wanted the challenge, not a puzzle a two-year-old could figure out.

“Do not worry; I have labeled the ones you need to flip.” Toriel murmured, mistaking his disappointment with worry. She led him across the bridges, waiting patiently for him to go over and flip the switches. Unsurprisingly, the spikes blocking the doorway collapsed, allowing the duo to pass through to the next room. “Splendid! I am proud of you, Mattie.” He raised an eyebrow in surprise—did Toriel seriously think that these puzzles would be challenging to him? After all, they were all fairly straightforward and simple to complete. Even still, the words filled him with happiness; the last time he’d been praised for something so small had been when he was still Francis’s child, back when he’d still been learning how to cook.

Toriel led the way to the room beyond, Mattie following close behind; he wasn’t sure what the reset time was for the puzzles, or if they did have a reset time. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out, either…

“As a human living in the Underground, monsters may attack you… You will need to be prepared for this situation.” He nearly choked, thinking about the yellow flower that had nearly killed him. If felt like years ago, but it had only been a few minutes… “Worry not! The process is simple.” She added, giving him a look of worry. He listened to the rest of her words with rapt attention, keeping a soft sigh internal; she wouldn’t be able to save him all the time… Didn’t she know that? She certainly couldn’t keep him there forever, nor should she expect to. “Come practice talking with the dummy.”

He walks over to the ratted old dummy without hesitation, eyeing it curiously. He… didn’t know what to say. The world around both him and the dummy faded to black, and they entered a fight. Flitting through what seemed to be four mental options, he selected the “act” option, choosing to talk to the dummy.  
“Hello… You look lovely today.” He mumbled softly, violet eyes watching the dummy with slight embarrassment. He felt silly--after all, how could a dummy be able to respond to him? Toriel, however, looked happy with him; the fight ended, quick as it began.

“Very good! You are very good.” Again, her positivity made him feel warm inside, cared for. A whisper in the back of his mind told him she’d forget him eventually, and he had to agree. It had happened with his flesh-and-blood family, so why did the thought hurt as much as it did? She smiled warmly at him, and he decided that whenever she eventually forgot him he’d still remember how happy and kind she’d been to him.

Toriel walked into the next room, pausing by a rather strange-looking path. He studied the pathway, trying to figure out what its significance was.  
“There is another puzzle in this room… I wonder if you can solve it?” His heart soared--Finally! He would prove to Toriel just how good he was at puzzles. He studied the path, the walls the floor, trying to discern what the puzzle was. After a moment, he decided it had to be something to do with the path. He walked it front and back, committing it to memory before following Toriel down a hallway. Right as he spotted a sign, he was attacked by a Froggit.

He entered the now familiar realm of the fight screen, flitting through his options to “act” then to “compliment.” He told the creature it looked incredibly lovely in French--after all, it was a pretty language--and although it couldn’t understand him it was very clearly flattered. Before he could figure out what would happen next, Toriel stepped in and prevented the Froggit from having its turn.

The sign, which he could now read, said “The Western room is the Eastern room’s blueprint.” His mind raced, solution to the puzzle on the tip of his tongue. He knew it had something to do with the path, but how did that play in with the next room? When he spotted the spikes, he knew. The safe path was the one exactly identical to the one in the room before!!! Exited, he turned to Toriel, mouth open to relay the information, but she spoke first.

“This is the puzzle, but… Here, take my hand for a moment.” He nodded, keeping a sigh internal, and took her hand. She led him through the safe path, his mind screaming that he knew the answer; did she not trust him to figure it out? “Puzzles seem a little too dangerous for now…” His heart sank with her words. Of course they were… though it’s not like they would have caused him any real harm. He knew how much damage he could take before he’d need medical attention; besides, he was a country who’d lived through several wars, he would be fine if he was somehow killed. He’d just revived, unless he’d been killed by another country.

“You have done excellently thus far, Mattie. But… I have a difficult request to ask of you.” Toriel murmured, giving Matthieu a look so full of love and worry that he couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. “I would like you to walk to the end of the room by yourself.” He blinked. To the end of the room…? He’d been alone for longer than he could keep track of; a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. “Forgive me for this.” Before he could let her know that he’d be okay with this, that he didn’t mind that she wanted to trust him, she sprinted towards the darkened end of the room. He stood stock-still for a moment, even going so far as to remove his glasses to try and see the far side of the room—nothing. It was too dark to make out any detail, any sort of hint of the white fluffiness of her fur, anything hinting at where she’d gone. With a small sigh, he walked towards the other end of the room, eyes scanning the room for where she might have gone.

The closer he got to the far side of the room, the clearer it got. From the center of the room, both ends of it were dark; however, he could make out details in the walls on the far side, and could locate where each doorway would be. He noticed a white pillar on the side Toriel had ran to; he was willing to bet all of the maple syrup in his country that she was hiding there rather than the next room. Once he was close enough, he spotted the curl of a horn and a small scrap of purple fabric peeking out from behind it, and he smiled faintly. He was glad he’d found her so quickly… He ran the rest of the way, heading straight for her and pulling her into a tight hug. She made a soft noise of surprise before hugging him back, a faint smile on her lips.

“Do not worry—I did not leave you.” He nods, nuzzling his face into her soft fur and relaxing. Maybe it was the texture of her fur, or maybe it was how warm she was; whatever it was, it made him feel safe, secure, and loved. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so cared for, let alone cared for unconditionally. “Thank you for trusting me.” He hummed softly in acknowledgement, holding her just a bit closer to himself. “There was an important reason to this exercise… to test your independence.” He pulled away from the hug, confused. Why would she need to test that? She had no reason to distrust him… right? “I must attend to some business, and you must stay alone for a while. Please remain here; it’s dangerous to explore by yourself.”

“Right,” He thought to himself, holding a sigh internal. “Apparently I’m, like, five in monster years.” He wanted to explore, to see where the ruins would lead him—maybe that was why she wanted him to stay. Maybe it was another puzzle, another challenge she wanted him to do.

“I have an idea. I will give you a cell phone. If you have a need for anything, just call.” She handed him an old, beaten up military-style phone, the kind that has an antenna in order to catch a signal. He stared at it in disgust, as if it had personally offended him, before taking the phone; it was one built by Alfred during what appeared to be around World War I… A phone like this never leads to his own good luck. Not that that’d stopped him from using one before, but still. He hated the damn things. “Be good, alright?” Before he could nod to acknowledge her words, or even look away from the old phone, Toriel left him in the long hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading!  
> My goal is to try and update once a week, but don't get upset with me if I can't manage--sometimes I run out of time to write, and other times I just forget. If people wish to know the progress of the current chapter, feel free to message me on my tumblr aph--virginia.tumblr.com
> 
> Have a wonderful day, readers!!!


	3. Napstablook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!!!
> 
> I wrote this chapter while sleep-deprived at my Grandma's house during the American thanksgiving (since Canada's happens in October), so if there are any grammar errors or inconsistencies in this chapter let me know!!! My lovely beta reader at officialmotherofbeans.tumblr.com catches most of my mistakes, but sometimes they miss one or two. Any grammar errors are my own, so don't do into their askbox nagging them about missed things uwu

Mattie wandered through the ruins, studying each and every puzzle he came across with ease. He had a few encounters with Wimsoms, Froggits, Moldsmals, and other monsters of the ruins—he refused to harm a single one, choosing instead to grant them mercy.  For some reason, whenever he encountered a Monster that he chose to grant mercy to, he earned gold. He assumed it would come in  handy later, but for now all it was good for was being useless.

The rock he encountered that didn’t want to move when he asked it to made hom smile; even though it was clearly not a monster, nor was in designed to be amusing, it still managed to create a small smile on his lips. If this was all he had to encounter, then staying in the ruins probably wouldn’t be so bad. Even if he apparently didn’t have a choice in the matter….

He walked into a room containing nothing but a table with cheese stuck to it. It seemed rather odd for it to be placed there, until he spotted the mouse hole. Seeing the cheese and the mouse hole auses him to hope the mouse will receive the cheese one day… He again fills with the feeling he cannot place. The word is right on the tip of his tongue… He assumed he’d figure eit out eventually. And, just as last time, the feeling left just as quickly as it appeared.

His thoughts were filled with the odd feeling as he walked into the next room, almost stepping on the ghost laying in the pile of leaves.

“Merde!!!” He squeaked, jumping back—he’d almost stepped on the poor thing, and he wouldn’t dare do that to anyone. The ghost, however, seemed to be sleeping; a closer, hesitant inspection led him to believe it was faking sleep.

“Are they goneyet?” The ghost whispered, as if it didn’t want to be heard by… something.

“Is who gone?” It didn’t answer, instead going back to pretending to sleep. Mattie racked his mind: clearly, something had frightened the poor thing… but he needed to move past it, and he really didn’t want to hurt it. After a moment of consideration, he decided to gently nudge it and politely ask it to move. Maybe it wouldn’t want to attack him?

“Excuse me…” He mumbled softly, cautiously tapping what he assumed to be the creature’s foot. “I need to pass through here, and you’re blocking the path. Would you—“ The world faded to black around him, and he entered what was quite possibly the most unexpected fight he had ever been a part of.

“Here comes Napstablook…” The ghost murmured, almost frightfully if it weren’t for the undertones of fear in its voice. Mattie decided he would spare the ghost—not because he would have killed it anyways, but something about it reminded him of… things he’d rather not think about. He hoped it would stay after the fight to talk, so that maybe he could help the ghost deal with those issues. He flitted through his mental options, deciding to cheer on the ghost; he saw that it felt a little better, but what worried him was its attack.

The ghost’s attack was to use its tears as a weapon, and although he’s learned from prior fights how to dodge attacks skillfully, the mere fact that the attacks were tears he could guess that Napstablook clearly wasn’t in the best mental place. He chose to keep cheering the ghost on, wanting to make it feel as loved and cared for as he possibly could, within reason. The ghost… didn’t attack him after the first time. He hoped it was because it liked him and not because it simply didn’t care.

“Here, let me try something…” It murmured—on its attack turn, its tears flew up towards its head, creating a very wonderful-looking hat. “I call it… Dapper blook.”

“It looks wonderful” Mattie says, smiling—he’d never lie about fashion, even to a complete stranger. Besides, the hat suited the ghost; all it needed now was a monocle and it would be ready for any formal event.

The battle ended with the compliment, the ghost beaming at him as best it could.

“I come to the Ruins because there’s nobody around… but today I met somebody nice…” Its smile widened at Mattie, and it took all of his willpower not to give it a hug right then and there. He didn’t know if it liked hugs, or if it even could be hugged—however, he was absolutely willing to try. He almost missed it saying that it would get out of his way, but before it vanished he murmured out a soft “Wait.”

Napstablook looked at him confusedly, tilting its head to the side.

“Aren’t I in your way?” It asked, confusion even more evident in its voice.

“Yes… But you seem nice. I was… I was hoping you’d be alright with staying and talking with me.” He sat down in front of it, smiling calmly at it to let it know it didn’t have to leave if it didn’t want to.

“You… want to talk to me?” Napstablook’s eyes became huge, then narrowed; it didn’t believe him.

“Yep!!!” He nodded, grinning at it. “You seem kind, and also… also sad. I like seeing people be not sad, and with the hat on you look incredibly dapper and happy.” Its cheeks turned a light shade of pink, even though the ability unto itself seemed impossible. Though that didn’t mean much—his surviving the fall was already impossible, so all the other impossible things that had happened thus far in the Underground didn’t bother him nearly as much as it normally would.

“I, uh… don’t know why you’d think that. I’m… not very impressive.” It sat up, scooting across from him. It left enough space for him to squeeze by, should he choose to leave it behind.

“I think you’re pretty impressive. I’ve never met a ghost before, let alone a monster that wanted to talk to me down here. Besides Toriel, that is.” The ghost lightened a bit, creating a very soft aura of aqua-blue light around itself. Apparently, when it was happy it literally glowed.

“I, um… didn’t ask you for your name. I’m sorry.” The glow faded, Napstablook looking fairly upset with itself.

“It’s alright—I didn’t ask for yours, either. My name’s Matthieu; what’s yours?”

“Napstablook.” The ghost looked a bit better—apparently, it didn’t remember saying what its name was before the combat.

“That’s a wonderful name.” The glow returned, stronger and more noticeable than before; this time, however, it was accompanied by a slight pink tinge to its cheeks.

“I-I, um… Th-thank you!!!” Napstablook stammered out, sounding much happier than it had beforehand. “Y-your name is p-pretty cool, too!”

Mattie beamed at it, feeling happier himself. Something about the ghost was just… relaxing. Relaxing and calm. From the way the other looked, it seemed to feel the same way.

“S-so…” It murmured softly, after a long moment of comfortable silence. “I, uh, don’t know if you’re comfortable answering this… But… why did you fall down here?” Mattie’s heart skipped a beat, eyes widening in surprise, inhaling sharply. He supposed the question ought to have been expected, but… he didn’t want to worry the ghost. Besides, even though it had shown him nothing but kindness, he couldn’t help but feel that it really wouldn’t care… Just like Francis, Arthur, and Alfred had. Granted, they hadn’t been paying attention to him, but still. They hadn’t even had a reaction to a single word he’d said…

“I-I’m sorry I brought it up… I was just curious…” The blue glow around the ghost disappeared, replaced instead by the creature’s very concerned face. “Are you alright?” Mattie merely shook his head no, eyes squeezing shut. He missed the words that flew out of Napstablook’s mouth, focusing on regulating his breathing and keeping his emotions internal.

The ghost’s nubby arms wrapping themselves around him as best they could caught him by surprise, a soft squeak escaping his lips and eyes snapping open. His vision, blurry with barely-contained tears, stared into the purple of the wall through Napstablook’s semi-translucent body; he found his arms reaching up to wrap around the ghost, tears leaking from his eyes a mere hour after he’d had the same thing happen with Toriel.

“Shhhh… It is going to be okay, Matthieu.” The ghost murmured, holding him though his body-wracking sobs and small noises of agony. Its little nubs started gently rubbing circles to his back, soft voice whispering soft soliloquies to calm the maelstrom of emotion swirling inside him.

His tears surprisingly did not drip through the ghost; they rolled off its edges, as if it was surrounded by a translucent and malleable skin. The minute discovery was enough to distance him from his emotions, enough to stutter out a weak apology for his tears; Napstablook assured him that it didn’t mind.

“Don’t worry, Mattie—I’m the last person you ought to feel ashamed about crying to.” It pulled away, enough to smile weakly at him. He tried to match the other’s smile; the weak attempt made the little ghost happy, causing it to glow a very faint blue. Its little nubs wiped the rest of his tears away, its soft voice telling him how happy it was that he’d wanted to talk to it and had bothered to spend time with it at all.

“…I’m sorry I asked you the question…” It mumbled, once Mattie had calmed down enough to breathe evenly and wipe his glasses off to dry them. “I hadn’t meant to hurt your feelings.”

“N-no... that’s… not what made me upset.” He assured it, leaning his head back on the wall and shutting his eyes. “It’s just that it’s a touchy subject. I really should have expected the question, so… don’t worry about it.”

“Alright…” Napstablook sounded uncertain, but that was understandable—after all, he did just spend at least half an hour crying on its shoulder.

“Do you have any siblings?” He asked, hoping to steer the subject away from himself.

“No… I’ve got a cousin, though. He’s great…” It smiled warmly, apparently lost in thought about the wonderfulness of his cousin. “His name’s Mettaton. He was a ghost like me, but they Alphys—that’s the Royal Scientist, she’s a real sweetheart—built him a robot body. Right now he’s probably doing some show or another, but he comes to visit every day and talk to me about stuff.” Its blue glow intensified, the purple walls tinging blue and the reds in the leaf pile beginning to appear purplish in color. “He always brings me stuff, too; food, new CDs for my music, art samples for when I finally piece together an album, hugs, gossip…”

“Sounds like he cares about you a lot.” Mattie commented, shifting his head and looking happily at the now cheerful ghost.

“He does!!! I remember one time when he and I were, like, five or six, he tried to get one of our snails to stick to the ceiling.”

The two talked for what seemed like hours, Mattie asking questions about Napstablook’s cousin and the other more than happy to oblige. Napstablook had eventually told Mattie that he could call it “Blookie” and Mattie had told the other it could call him “Mattie.”

“So, what’s your family like?”

“Well… I’ve got a brother. Huge over-achiever always has to be the best at everything… And Arthur ‘n Francis, they fight all the time—they don’t really mean it, though. And I’ve got a pet polar bear named Kumajiro, he’s a sweetheart. Plus my—my, uh… Well, I guess they count as siblings, but they’re closer to me than Al, Arthur, and Francis are. I’ve got eleven siblings; ten of them live close enough for me to drive over without crossing country borders.”

“That’s… Certainly a lot of family…”

“I’ve got a large family. We haven’t even brought up my aunts and uncles and cousins yet!!!”

“Must be nice.” The ghost smiled warmly at him; he realized he’d spoken without his usual hushed tones. He hadn’t realized he’d dropped the habit.

“…not really…” His eyes slid shut, drawing his knees up to his chest. “There’s too many of us to pay attention to, and Alfred gets most of it. Favorite child and all that.”

Napstablook’s blue glow slowly faded as it mulled over Mattie’s words, until it climbed to its feet—well ,the end of it that counted as having feet—and attempted to give Mattie another hug.

Instead of giving the Canadian the comfort he ever so clearly needed, the ghost passed through him. Goosebumps popped up wherever the ghost passed through, leaving both parties equally confused. With a soft, startled noise, Napstablook faded away. Mattie looked around, peering around both sides of the hallway and even checking the room before it before deeming the search futile. Nastablook had most likely teleported back to wherever he’d been before appearing in the ruins… He hoped he’d see the friendly ghost again.

With a soft sigh, he left the room Napstablook had been in, and continued his path through the Ruins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my friend yello-paper.tumblr.com for the fabulous artwork!!!
> 
> In other news, I'm looking forward to Toriel part two. That chapter's going to be a bit longer, so if it doesn't go up within a week then please be patient!!! A lot of things will be happening in that chapter, so keep your eyes peeled for it.


	4. Toriel Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!!!
> 
> I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to update--my teachers all threw assignments at me, and I had a bit of a writer's block. To make up for it, I've written all of this. Really, I should have split this up into two chapters... But whatever.
> 
> Also: The main reason I didn't upload this on a Sunday like I usually do is because I'll be on a trip!!! I'll start the next chapter on the trip, so hopefully I can upload that on the 26th or the 27th and keep myself on schedule.

Mattie made his way through the rest of the ruins in a cloud of his own thoughts. He fended off monsters with kind words and whispered compliments, yet he could sense his mood depleting with each and every step. He’d bought some spider cider and a spider donut from the spider charity, thanking the kind creatures who’d brought him the food and ended up chatting to the spiders. They’d made the charity to rent a limo for a ride to the world outside the ruins, to join their friends and family located in a place called “The Hotlands.” He asked if some of them would like to ride with him on his way through the underground, a free ride to the place. They politely refused, but thanked him profusely for his kindness, giving him a spider donut free of charge for his offer to help.

He spoke to the three frogs in the room, finding the fourth frog by removing his glasses and looking around the room. The frog was so small that it looked incredibly far away, making it easy for Mattie to spot it. He travelled through the remaining puzzles, solving them with ease. They looked like they were made for someone much younger than him… He hoped that all the puzzles would be this easy, but he doubted they would.

Eventually, he made his way to a room with a large tree with bark so dark it was almost black. Leaves littered the ground around it, colors contrasting the purple room around it with their vibrant red and orange hues. He almost didn’t notice the goat woman hurrying towards him, phone in hand, until she spotted him and pulled him into a hug.

“Matthieu!!!” Toriel exclaimed, ignoring his look of surprise. “How did you get here?”

“I walked…” He murmured softly, smiling warmly at her. His negative emotions were still there, but he pushed them to the side to keep the kind-hearted goat woman happy and content.

“Are you hurt?” She looked over him, quickly spotting what little injuries he had. “Do not worry; I will heal you.” And heal she did. A small, auburn-colored light appeared between her palms, radiating comfort and warmth. She touched it to his forehead, and calm washed over him. Not only did his injuries heal, but his recent negative emotions faded away. His eyes fluttered shut in relaxation and drowsiness, not noticing her look of concern as the light tinged a dark green—the negativity she’d removed.

“I should not have left you for so long…” She murmured regretfully, looking a bit saddened by the fact. Mattie slowly opened his eyes, looking at her with forgiveness. All he wanted to do right then was sleep… “It was… irresponsible for me to try and surprise you like this.” At the moment, he couldn’t care less what the surprise was. He just wanted a nap, maybe some cuddles and a hug…

“I suppose I cannot hide it any longer. Come…” Her voice trailed off, apparently seeing just how sleepy he had become. “Would you, perhaps, like me to carry you there? It is not far…” He smiled warmly at her, nodding. He felt… Safe, oddly enough. Safe and content. Like nothing could harm him ever again… The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was a beautiful view of a rather small, cute home in the ruins. 

 

* * *

 

When Matthieu awoke, it was to the smell of something delicious. He rolled over, blindly searching for his glasses on the nightstand next to the surprisingly soft bed. His hand bumped into a few objects before finding them. He slid them on, sleepily observing his surroundings. The room was bathed in a soft orange-red, the lights off except for what scrambled under the crack of the door.  He could make out the bedside table, a rather tall dresser or a wardrobe, and various toys scattered about the room. Perhaps she’d lent him a child’s room… The thought made him feel rather guilty. He didn’t want to be the reason someone younger than him had to sleep on the floor.

He slid out of the bed, gently tucking the sheets in before padding over to a lamp on the other side of the room. Flicking it on, the room’s colors brightened to a pumpkin orange; turning around, his eyes focused on a slice of pie in the middle of the floor. Silently, he thanked whatever higher power that had kept him from stepping on the delicious treat, and scooped it and its plate up from the floor. It felt warm, as if it hadn’t been there for very long, and smelled fantastic. He waved a hand, to waft the smell to his nose to savor it before eating, accidentally causing the slice to… vanish? He searched everywhere: the floor, under the bed, on top of the bed, on all the toy shelves... nothing. He sat on the bed, dejected, and flitted through his mental options.

He tensed up, seeing a small section that could only be described as a “main screen” from a video game. He could see his name, how much health he had, his level, how much gold he had, and three selectable options. The first was simply labelled “Item” and most likely contained an inventory’ the other two, “Stat” and “Cell” he decided to check later. Selecting the “Item” option, he was led to his inventory; he selected the pie, blinking twice when it appeared in his hands. It was just as warm and delicious-smelling as before… Something told him he ought to save the slice for later. With another wave of his hand, he stored the pie slice back in his inventory, and padded silently out of the room.

He found Toriel reading by a fireplace, smiling at the domestic sight. In the lighting, she looked like an old, elderly grandmother about to start reading a bedtime story for her grandchildren… All she needed was a white wig and a quilt, and the image would be complete.

“Oh! Hello, Matthieu.” She said softly, smiling happily at him. “Did you have a nice rest?”

“Oui.” He murmured quietly, smiling at her. “What are you reading?”

“Oh!!! It’s a cookbook… I’m trying to find a really good recipe for snails.”

“My papa likes snails… I could teach you one of his recipes, if you’d like…” His heart soared when she nodded, smile bigger and happier than it had been moments ago.

“Oh, that would be lovely!!!” She exclaimed, setting her book down and pulling him into a tight hug. “You tell me what we need to make it, and I’ll get the ingredients next time I go shopping.” He hugs her back, careful to not hug too tightly--he might not be as strong as Alfred, but he was still much stronger than the average human.

“Papa… Usually got 36 snails, a-and some butter and parsley… Oh, garlic, shallots, and brioche too.” She nodded, nuzzling her chin to the top of his head.

“It sounds like fun to make.”

“It’s papa’s favorite food… well, second-favorite. He likes my pancakes better.” Mattie beamed at her—he felt younger and more carefree than he had in a long time, as if he was a colony again.

“… What… is a pancake?” His heart stopped. How could someone not know the goodness that is a homemade pancake???

“You’re determined to teach me how to make that, aren’t you?” His mind filled with the emotion, finally placing a name to it. Determination. He nodded, beaming happily at her; relieved for finally knowing the emotion he’d been feeling on and off the entire day, and affirmation towards her question.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Toriel?” He shifted from foot to foot, nervous and uneasy about the thoughts running through his mind, about what he was about to ask.

It had been about a month since he’d been carried into her warm, loving home. He enjoyed his time with her, really he did, but things in the ruins were getting a bit… Cramped. Sure, he got his own room, and she cared about him more than Alfred and Arthur and Francis ever could; but he had an overwhelming sense of loneliness that he couldn’t seem to shake. Toriel never let him leave the house unless he was with her, which meant that all his Froggit and Whimsum friends he’d made were too scared to approach him.

“Yes, Matthieu?”

“I was wondering… when can I leave the ruins?” Her eyes went from their usual joyful reddish-brown to a hurtful and hurt crimson, filled with emotion she was too good at hiding for his fleeting glance to place.

“There is something I must do. Wait here.” She stood from her chair. Her usual relaxed and friendly posture is gone, replaced with something much more sinister. For the first time, Matthieu understands the fear that incapacitates every monster in the ruins whenever she walks by. Judging the sounds of her footsteps, she had gone down the stairs that he wasn’t allowed to go down.

“T-Toriel…?” He called out softly, hoping that she would reply—silence answered his words.

Slowly, carefully, he tiptoed down the stairs towards the forbidden area. He kept his eyes peeled for the kindhearted goat woman, and felt badly for hurting her feelings. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, though…

He travelled down the surprisingly long hallway, spotting the familiar purple robe in front of a large door. Once he was close enough, she turned around, all seething anger and a determination he had not seen in her furry frame before.

“You want to leave?” He could only nod. She was scaring him—he’d never seen her so angry, especially not at him. The switch reminded him of Arthur’s drunken mood swings, especially when he’d been young; the parallel made him much more cautious than he had been earlier.

“You are just like the others.” The words floated across the room, entering his mind and burning holes to his brain. There had been others. Of course there had been others, it didn’t make sense for her to own the sheer volume of toys and shoes that were stored in his room. He’d eased himself into a false sense of security and safety, and now he was going to pay for it. Whatever happened to the others wasn't his fault, but it certainly felt like it was.

“There is only one solution to this.” He almost missed the hint of an apology in her voice--he didn't realize it, but he'd made himself look small and weak before her. He didn't want this, didn't want to hurt her or be hurt, didn't want to disappoint her, didn't want to be alone.

“Prove yourself. Prove to me that you are strong enough to survive.” The world around them faded away to an inky-black darkness, the only color in the monochrome world the red of his soul and the multicolored rainbow of the souls surrounding his own.

He refused to fight her, instead choosing again and again to spare her. As the fight progressed, he made the shield of hearts around his soul fluttered into his own, making him more defenseless. He didn't care. He didn't want this. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to hurt her. He almost missed noticing how weak her attacks had become; how, little by little, his pleading words drilled into her mind and caused her to lose the will to fight.

“What are you doing? Attack or run away!” Toriel said at long last,voice sounding incredibly pained. But he refused. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, hurt the other, even if it cost him his own life. He was determined to get her to see that he didn’t want to to hurt her, even if she couldn’t avoid hurting him. “What are you proving this way? Fight me or leave!!!” He couldn’t leave. He’d been here too long, enduring attack after attack, hit after hit, to stand down now. He filled with an aching, painful determination, one filled with melancholy and a sadness so intense he could not speak.

Her expression shifted from determination to upset, a flicker of emotion that hadn’t been there before; he wasn’t sure what it meant. He’d retreated so far into his mind that everything seemed weird and muffled, as if he was seeing through a cloud of cotton candy.

“I know you want to leave here, but… But please, go upstairs now. I promise I will take good care of you here.”

He refused. He chose to spare her yet again.

“Why are you making this so difficult?”

He couldn’t allow himself to hurt her. He couldn’t allow himself to lose. He couldn’t allow himself to be forgotten.

“Please, go upstairs.”

He wanted to, more than anything else he’d ever wanted. But he refused. He almost missed her face shift to pure sadness, almost missed the way it curled around her like smoke and flame, lapping at her mind, her posture, her attacks.

“Ha ha… Pathetic, is it not? I cannot save even a single human.” Her voice dripped calm acceptance, a mutual understanding of words not said nor intended. He wanted to stay with her, wanted to listen to her stories and to learn about the monsters of the world. But he wanted to go see them for himself… Was that too much to ask for?

“I understand. You would just be unhappy trapped down here. The Ruins are very small once you get used to them. It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this.” He wanted to scream--that wasn’t what he wanted, what he’d meant, what he’d wanted to do. For some reason, he couldn’t find his voice to tell her.

“My expectations… My loneliness… My fear… For you, Matthieu… I will put them aside.” The world faded back into its purple hues, Toriel’s angelic fur in stark contrast to the coarse texture of the walls and the door.

“If you truly wish to leave the Ruins, I will not stop you. However, when you leave… please do not come back.” His heart stopped, eyes finally welling up with tears. He almost missed her rather small “I hope you understand;” his heart hurt too much to speak. When she knelt down to hug him, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, trying to convey just how much he wanted to stay with her, how much he wanted her to join him in his explorations, how much he didn’t want to be alone. He refused to cry, not where she could see him, no matter how much he wanted, needed to cry.

Toriel pulled away after what seemed like hours, eyes red and puffy from her own withheld tears--her emotional mask wasn’t nearly as good as his.

“Goodbye, my child.” She stood up, walking around him and down the hallway; he didn’t turn to look. He heard her soft pawsteps pause, a soft rustling of the fabric of her clothes indicating she’d turned to look at him, before resuming walking away. He stayed still, waiting until he couldn’t hear her echoing steps and then a bit after that before allowing a single tear to trickle its way down his cheek.

Where the tear landed on the ground, a slight discoloration of the ground appeared; a small, green stem emerged, a purple flower emerging from the spot. An Aster. Matthieu didn’t know why it grew, or how it would survive without any sunlight… But the flower made him feel more at home than he had in a long, long time. The small flower in such a dark place filled him with determination; he’d find his way out, and then he’d come back to Toriel.

His last thought before opening the door in front of him was that he still needed to teach her how to make good Canadian pancakes.

 

* * *

 

The hallway behind the door was incredibly long, one that would have had Alfred complaining about the sheer amount of walking it would take to reach the other side. Matthieu removed his glasses, vision blurred by withheld tears--his heart skipped a beat upon seeing the all too familiar yellow of the demented buttercup. He’d thought that Toriel had killed it… why was it back again?

“Clever. Very clever.” “You think you're really smart, don't you?” Flowey’s sugary-sweet voice echoed down the hallway, reaching Mattie’s ears as he made his way towards the offending plant.

“In this world, it's kill or be killed… So you were able to play by your own rules.” It chuckled, face becoming less sweet and more terrifying. Matthieu… Didn’t care. Not one little bit. Toriel was more important to him than any plant.

“You spared the life of a single person. Hee hee hee…I bet you feel really great. You didn't kill anybody this time. But what will you do if you meet a relentless killer?” He looked at the flower blankly, raising a single eyebrow. He knew it didn’t know a single thing about human history… If it did, he doubted it would have said such a thing.

“You'll die and you'll die and you'll die. Until you tire of trying. What will you do then? Will you kill out of frustration? Or will you give up entirely on this world… and let _me_ inherit the power to control it?” The plant’s face contorted into a demonic smirk, chittering amusedly to itself. Mattie realized that this flower might possibly be the most annoying, overly idiotic thing he had ever had the misfortune to meet. Well, second most. He counted a certain musical singer at the top of that list...

“I am the prince of this world's future. Don't worry, my little monarch, my plan isn't regicide. This is _so_ much more interesting.” The flower let out an astoundingly evil cackle, voice echoing throughout the room as its face mushroomed in size to fit the framework of the sound. Before he had a chance to comment on it, to correct it, it was gone. Judging by the ping pong ball sized hole it had left in the mound, he assumed it had burrowed away.

He walked across the mound, through the doorway to the other side… and everything faded to white.

 

* * *

 

 

He stepped out of the doorway into the white powdery fluff, listening to the satisfying crunch underfoot. He felt… surprisingly relieved to be in a scenario similar to his home. He remembered the snowfall around his home in the wintertime, how he’d spend the holidays amongst his provinces… The thought of his provinces left him in a state of shock, pulling his moving feet to a halt. How were they, now that he wasn’t there? Were they doing alright? Had Alfred offered to help them, as they searched for him? The questions filled his mind, darkening his mood and his eyes.

He began walking again. He almost missed the sound of footsteps behind him; however, he heard the voice loud and clear from behind him.

 

 

 

 

  
“Hey, pal… You see a human ‘round here named Frisk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there are any spelling or grammar errors in this, or if certain wording doesn't make sense--My Beta reader is fantastic, but they were out for most of this chapter because of finals. Any and all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Remember to feed the writer!!! All comments shall be read, re-read, and taken into account for the next chapter. Well, really, the chapter after that; I've got a surprise for everyone in the next chapter :3c


	5. The Skelebros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!!! It's been a long time since I've updated this. Seems like only yesterday I was stressing about AP tests and whatnot...
> 
> But now that the schoolyear is coming to a close, I'm hoping to keep some sort of writing schedule. What that schedule is I don't know, but I'll be doing my best to keep one!!!
> 
> I'm also planning on a few things down the road... Like having the other nations get involved, somehow. But how and when that will happen is for me to know and for you all to find out!
> 
> Also, I have a tumblr. If you all want to send questions or writing requests my way, shoot an ask to land-of-dragons-and-frogs.tumblr.com and I'l see what I can do :3

“... Frisk?” He questioned, not turning around. He wasn’t sure who it was, but… He didn’t like the tone in their voice.

“Short kid, brown hair, blue shirt with two purple stripes… You seen ‘em?” He wasn’t sure if the monster--was it a monster?--behind him had heard him.

“Uh… Yeah, actually. N-Not here, though. Back on the surface. Drove past ‘em on my way here, so I picked them up and took them to… to…” Quebec. His providence. His shoulders started to tremble, a wetness trickling down his cheeks that was immediately noticeable in the cold; he’d already cried enough today. He thought he’d run out of tears.

“... to a friend’s house.” He finished lamely, voice softer than it had been before. Whomever it was stayed silent, and for a few meager seconds he thought that the speaker had left.

“ **Human.** ” His heart nearly stopped in his chest. Whomever it was… They’d gone from calm to deadly terrifying in all of a second. “ **Don’t you know how to greet a new pal?** ” He stayed silent; his shoulders were still trembling, though his tears had faded away. “ **Turn around and shake my hand.** ” He almost didn’t follow the command. Almost. He turned slowly, hands tucked firmly into his hoodie pockets as he assessed the monster that now stood before him.

A small skeleton, one that came up to his chest, was looking up at him. The monster was in a comfortable-looking blue hoodie, basketball shorts, and a pair of pink slippers that every single stereotypical old white grandmother seems to own. A bony hand was stretched out for him to shake, a light smile plastered on the other’s face. He reached out his own to shake--

A long, loud fart noise was ejected from their handshake. The skeleton chuckled once the noise echoes away through the trees, hand still firmly holding his own.

“The old whoopie cushion in the hand trick. It’s always funny.” He opened his mouth to speak, but  the skeleton carried on. “You’re a human, right? That’s hilarious. I’m Sans. Sans the Skeleton.”

“I… I’m Matthieu.” He hated that he was so quiet. Really, the skeleton was just going to keep talking as if he hadn’t been heard, and then he would be able to pretend that he was just a nameless person just trying to get home--

“Matthieu, huh? That’s a nice name. Mind if I call you Mattie?”

“I- U-uh… Yeah, that’s fine.”

“As a matt-er of fact, that’s pretty good. Did you take Mattriculation in school?” He snorted; this skeleton was very fond of puns. He rather liked Sans, both for the jokes and for the fact that he paid attention to him.

“Tibia honest, I’m supposed to be on watch for humans right now. But… Y’know… I don’t really care about capturing anybody. Now my brother, Papyrus…” Wait, the skeleton had a brother? Would… Would this brother be like Alfred? God, he hoped not. He didn’t want to cry again that day.

“He’s a human-hunting  _ fanatic _ .” Sans looked past him, noticing something beyond the bridge and the odd-looking gate.

“Actually, I think that’s him over there. I have an Idea  (idea)?  ; go through this gate thingy. My bro made the bars too wide to stop anybody.” Matthieu… Did not want to cross the bridge. What if there was ice on it and he slipped?

“Aww, c’mon. It’s snow problem, you’ll be fine.” He raised an eyebrow at Sans, who was still holding his hand.

“Seems like I’m not the one needing encouraging.  _ Ice _ can’t believe that this gate is functional.” He wiggled his fingers in the still-firm handshake, and Sans immediately let go. Strange...

“Sorry, Matt. Guess like I’ll just have to… chill out.” The skeleton’s grin widened, and Mattie took a few cautious steps on the bridge. It seemed stable enough, but he certainly wasn’t a fan of the inky blackness below it.

“I was just trying to break the ice.” He said innocently, taking a much more confident step forward on the rickety old bridge. “It’s not like I snow you very well, after all.” Sans snickered, the smile seeming more real on the skeleton’s face.

“My mind is slipping on all this humor.” Sans followed after him, once he had stepped onto the solid ground beyond the small bridge. “It’s snow disappointing.”

“You could say it’s… snowverrated, if you catch my drift.” Sans opened his mouth to continue their punnery, but was interrupted by a tall skeleton walking up to them in a huff.

The tall skeleton was in red boots, gloves, and a scarf. It appeared to be wearing some sort of chainmail, most likely made from hundreds of thousands of soda can tabs. His bones appeared to be covered in some sort of black cloth. If Matthieu had to guess, the other was a few inches taller than he was. The skeleton stopped a few yards away from the two of them; Mattie assumed this tall skeleton was Papyrus.

“Sup, bro?” Sans asked innocently, staring with wide doe eyes up at the tall skeleton.

“You know what “sup,” brother!” The tall skeleton shouted, gloved hands placed firmly on his hip bones. “It’s been eight days and you still haven’t calibrated your puzzles. You just hang around outside your station! What are you even doing?!?” Sans nudged Mattie; apparently, the tall skeleton hadn’t noticed him yet. He… Wasn’t surprised.

“Well, I was staring at this lamp. It’s really cool. Do you wanna look?”

“No!! I don’t have time for that!! What if a human comes through here!?!” … How oblivious was this skeleton?

“Well, my friend here seems to like it. Right, human?” Sans elbowed him gently, grinning up at him. Papyrus, just now noticing him, stared with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. It looked like the tall skeleton had been about to say something, but had lost the words to speak.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” He glanced at the lamp--it was an incredibly odd shape, though he guessed that made it unique--before looking back at the tall skeleton. “I take it that you’re Papyrus?”

“I-- U-uhm--”

“Paps, there’s been a… Mix-up with the humans.” Mix-up? What mix-up? He hadn’t wanted to fall down here, though he figured it was better him than the poor child he’d placed in Quebec’s care.

“I can see that, Sans. I was… Hoping it was a trick of the light.” Papyrus seemed to have regained his voice, and was pointedly watching Matt with rapt attention. He hunched into himself; having one monster focus on him was bad enough, he didn’t want to deal with two.

“Human--”

“His name’s Mattie, Paps.”

“-- Would you like to complete the puzzles Sans and I have laid out?” Matt thought about if for a moment. On the one hand, his hoodie wasn’t exactly the warmest for the snowy weather. He was decently warm now, but later on the chill would really start to kick in. On the other hand… He didn’t want to make Papyrus cry. The skeleton was like a talking puppy, he didn’t want to hurt the other!!!

“Sure. But, uh… Would you two like to come with me? I mean, you and Sans must have put a lot of work into them; It’d be a shame if you didn’t get to see them completed.” If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought that he’d offended the tall skeleton; Papyrus had collapsed into the snow, a soft trilling noise escaping from behind an ecstatic grin. The red scarf fluttered in a nonexistant wind,

“... I think you broke him.”

“Error 404, Papyrus not found?”

“Yeah. Give it a minute, he’ll spring right back up.” The duo waited in silence, watching as Papyrus’s overjoyed trilling faded into silence. They both jumped as the enthusiastic skeleton launched himself up from the snow in a puff of white powder, closing the distance between the two of them and scooping Mattie up into a hug.

“I, the Great Papyrus, will accompany you while you do puzzles!”on your journey!” Papyrus let go, cape fluttering again in a nonexistent breeze as he posed heroically.

“What about you, Sans?” Mattie looks at the shorter skeleton, smiling warmly at him.

“Dunno… tibia honest, I’d rather take a shortcut.”

“Don’t be a lazybones, brother! We can help the human--”

“My name is Mattie.”

“--solve our puzzles!”

“I dunno… I don't think I have the backbone for it.”

“Sans!!!” Papyrus stomped his foot, giving Sans an annoyed look. “The human has offered to let us help them with the puzzles! It would be rude not to accept.”

“Paps, I’m bone-tired. Do I-” Mattie never thought he’d see the day when a skeleton could pull off the Doe Eyes look. But Papyrus, tall as he was, was using the most effective doe eyes that had ever been seen before. Sans sighed, pressing his knuckles to the spot between his eyes.

“... Okay, Paps.” The tall skeleton’s eyes lit up with joy, and scooped Sans up into a happy hug. “But I am bone-tired, I did a ton of work today. A skele-ton.” Papyrus let out an irritated groan, letting go of Sans and sighing.

“You ruined the moment, Sans.” The skeleton huffed, red gloves firmly placed on boney hips.

“Sorry, bro. But we better start walking with Mattie, or else he’ll get… bonely.”

“Sans!!!” Matthieu chuckled, smiling despite the huff that came out of Papyrus.

“Hey, bro… Have you calibrated your puzzles yet? I can go with Mattie until we reach the first puzzle, and then you can meet us there.”

“Sounds fine with me.” He smiled warmly at the tall skeleton, hands clasping firmly inside of his hoodie pocket. “Besides, once we get to the puzzle I can ask you two for hints.”

“I’ll have to go calibrate just one puzzle… Promise you’ll wait for me at the first one?”

“Promise.” The skeleton seemed not to believe him; if Papyrus had had eyebrows, one would be raised. “Besides, what if I need a hint? I’m sure that only the Great Papyrus would be able to help me.”

“Alright, if you’re sure…” Papyrus leaned to whisper in his ear; or, rather, whisper as best as a shouting skeleton could. Sans most definitely heard them. “Human… If you hurt my brother while I am gone, I will not be happy.” With that, the tall skeleton darted off down the path, more than likely heading towards some puzzles of his.

“Well, kiddo, I guess it’s just you and me. I’m a lazybones, so how about you go on ahead of--”

“I  could carry you.” He didn’t know why he offered. Sans looked absolutely surprised that he had offered. Why did he offer to carry someone he hardly knew? It didn’t make any sense…

“Can you carry me? I weigh a ton, so…” Sans’s voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure if the skeleton was expecting him to wave it off and keep going, but he felt his inner Alfred screaming at him to prove the skeleton wrong. He could carry this short skeleton, all he had to do was try--

Sans was much lighter than he looked, Mattie found. With a pleased hum, he headed down the path towards the next puzzle, a surprised and silenced Sans in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading!!! It really has been awhile since I've updated, and my grammar has since gotten a lot better... I'll probably go back and edit some of the chapters to fix grammar mistakes. Shoutout to my beta reader sihatn.tumblr.com because he isn't involved with Hetalia or Undertale, yet read through my draft anyways,

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, hence the cliffhanger. I'm working on the following chapters, and I'm hoping to be able to post one a week; knowing my schedule that might not be the case, but that's my goal!!!


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